Betrayed: Days of the Rogue (15 page)

“Damn you, why don’t you go
somewhere else.” She softly cursed the creature. While she felt
great sympathy for the lonely animal, she was getting rather tired
of how it kept interfering with her plans. Now she’d be stuck
inside again.

Bringing her vehicle to a halt,
they had a face off. It stared at her and she stared at it, tapping
the steering wheel impatiently as she waited for it to move on.

Unfortunately, it seemed to have
other plans.

“You know, Wolf, you were nice
enough to talk to the other day but I don’t see us having a lasting
relationship. Head on your way.”

The beast took no notice of her.
Despite the shadows in which it stood, she was sure she saw a flash
of teeth and she shifted uneasily in her seat. It had given the
impression of being a lot friendlier during their previous
encounter. She bit her lip, not sure what to do but anxious to be
back in the safety of her cabin. Why she’d ever thought taking a
drive was a good move, she’d never know. Dumb, dumb, dumb.
Exasperated with herself and the wolf, she beeped the horn, hoping
the sound would scare it away.

It didn’t leave. Instead, its tail
flicked from side to side in an annoyed pattern and it lowered its
head. Eve was sure she could hear it growl even at this distance.
The sound seemed to reverberate around her, coldness creeping down
her spine, wrapping its clutches around her soul and squeezing at
her heart. She shivered at the hatred that was invading her mind,
filling her with images of death and blood. Her throat tightened,
she struggled to draw in a breath. Darkness was surrounding her,
blocking out the sun, dimming her vision until all she could see
was the gaping jaws of the beast before her.

Survival instincts had her fumbling
with the gear shift, throwing the car into reverse. The wolf
stalked towards her and she backed up, increasing her speed,
praying she didn’t drive off the road. The creature was still
coming, now breaking into a trot, then running towards her, gaining
on her.

Desperation filled her. A scream
ripped from her throat. Her car careened backwards down the
driveway, the steering wheel slipping beneath her sweaty palms. She
was sure she was going to crash.

From the corner of her eye, she
caught a glimpse of the lane that led to Rafe’s place. With a skill
she didn’t even know she possessed, she quickly popped the vehicle
into drive and gunned the engine, taking off down the laneway with
dust and gravel spewing behind her.

Eve gripped the steering wheel,
fighting for control as the vehicle lurched down the rutted path.
There was too much dust in the air for her to see behind her but
she prayed she was outrunning the wolf. God, this was what Rafe had
been talking about when he claimed rogues were dangerous. The other
day it had seemed almost dog-like, lulling her into a sense of
security but this…this was like a demon.

She manoeuvred the car around a
bend in the lane, breathing a sigh of relief when Rafe’s place came
into view. It was a rustic styled log house considerably larger
than the cabin she rented. However, its appearance was the last
thing on her mind.

Slamming the car into park, she
leapt from the vehicle, raced up the steps and pounded on his
door.

“Rafe? Rafe, let me in!” The glass
in the door rattled with from the force of her blows. She glanced
over her shoulder sure the wolf would appear at any moment. “Rafe,
open the damned door!” She jiggled the knob and was surprise when
it turned easily. Giving no thought to the etiquette of entering
someone’s home uninvited, she hurried in and slammed the door shut
behind her. Quickly turning the lock, she ran from room to room,
checking the windows and finally the back door.

By the time she had the house
secured, she’d been through every room yet there was no sign of her
landlord.

Eve stood with her hand pressed to
her pounding heart. She was safe inside but the feeling of evil
that had overcome her was hard to forget. If Rafe was here, she’d
have plastered herself against him, wanting the warmth of human
contact to help erase the experience from her memory.

Taking deep calming breaths, she
tried to think of where Rafe might be and realized she really
didn’t know anything about the man. He said he was a
counsellor…well, he’d never said that exactly but he hadn’t denied
it either. And he knew about wolves. She made a face. That wasn’t
much to go on. For a moment, she considered calling him, but her
purse was still in the car and there was no way she was going
outside to get her phone! A quick look around didn’t reveal a
landline, though his cell phone was lying on the table. Apparently
Rafe wasn’t the type to keep his phone glued to his side.

Not sure what else to do, she sat
down in a chair with a strategic view out the window so she could
see if anything was approaching down the laneway. An afghan was
draped across the back and she pulled it down and wrapped it around
herself, faint shivers of fright still wracking her frame. Slowly,
her heartbeat calmed, the cold feeling inside her seeping away.

There was a sense of safety being
in Rafe’s house. It was definitely a man’s home, with black leather
furnishing and a few bold splashes of colour. Drawing the afghan up
closer to her face, she inhaled noting how it smelled faintly of
him; a combination of soap and nature. A smile spread over her face
and she closed her eyes, allowing her imagination to take over.
What would it be like to have his arms wrapped around her? To feel
the heat of his body warming hers, the gentle brush of his lips
over her brow? To press her ear to his chest and hear the steady
beating of his heart… She sighed and snuggled into the afghan
content to drift along with the pleasant little daydream her
imagination was concocting.

Sometime later, she awoke with a
start, disoriented and muzzy from the steamy dream she’d been
having about Rafe. Wincing at the kink in her neck, she got to her
feet and brushed her hair from her face. It would seem that Rafe
still wasn’t home. A quick look at her watch showed that only an
hour had passed. If he’d driven into town, he could be gone for a
while. Giving a stretch, she headed to the kitchen intent on
finding a glass of water and perhaps something to eat. Barely had
she stepped into the room when a noise caught her attention.

There was a steady thumping sound
coming from behind the house. She froze in place. The pleasantly
relaxed feeling she’d gained during her impromptu nap was
immediately replaced by prickles of fear as she imagined the wolf
trying to break down the door. Insanely, an image of the story of
the three little pigs came to mind, and she almost expected to hear
a deep voice saying “I’ll huff and I’ll puff….” A bubble of
hysterical laughter threatened to escape as she looked around
frantically, not sure what to do. Should she barricade the door or
try to make a mad dash for the car?

Dragging her fingers through her
hair, she forced herself to calm down and think rationally. The
noise was too rhythmic to be an animal and it was coming from the
yard, not the door. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to
move. Tiptoeing to a window facing the backyard, she pressed her
body flat to the wall, gathered her nerve and then cautiously slid
sideways so that one eye was able to peer outside.

A man was there repairing a wooden
fence and—she allowed her gaze to travel the length of him—oh, what
a man it was! All caution forgotten, Eve clutched the curtain she’d
pushed aside and stared in fascination as he swung the hammer over
and over. Each perfectly defined muscle in his back stretched and
contracted, in a mesmerizing dance, as the hammer rose and fell
with a steady pulsing beat.

The artist in her immediately felt
the need to start drawing his likeness. Who was this divine
specimen? Not Rafe; the build was right but not the colouring. The
god before her had dark hair but his skin was lighter and…
Recognition suddenly clicked in. It was café-man!

Letting the curtain fall back into
place, she recalled her last encounter with him; how she’d wanted
to try to ‘read’ his emotions as an experiment of sorts. She’d
never expected to see him again and yet, here he was. Should she
stay inside or go talk to him? Hiding wouldn’t accomplish anything.
And perhaps she’d be able to discover what made him different while
at the same time finding out where Rafe was. Walking to the back
door, she hesitated, her hand on the knob, thinking about the wolf
but then reasoned that the loud sound of hammering would likely
keep it away. And café-man was out there, obviously unharmed.
Boldly, she left the shelter of the house.

As she approached him, she began to
imagine using him as a live model. He’d look amazing on the cover
of a book.

“Enjoying the view?”

With a start, Eve realized his head
was angled enough that he could see her out of the corner of his
eye.

“Uh…” How had he heard her over the
noise of the hammering?

He set the tool down and turned
around completely, leaning his hip against the fence he’d been
mending. His front was as impressive as his back with each
abdominal muscle clearly outlined. She swallowed hard and forced
herself to quit staring at his body.

“I’m looking for Rafe.”

He didn’t answer her right away.
His face was expressionless as he looked her up and down, no hint
of the interest or emotional turmoil she’d thought she’d detected
during their encounter in town. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if he
recalled having seen her before. Now that was rather deflating.

“Sorry, can’t help you.” He
answered in clipped tones and seemed to dismiss her. Bending over,
he selected a piece of lumber from a pile on the ground, turning it
this way and that as if trying to decide its suitability as a fence
board.

She waited, rocking a bit on the
balls of her feet, but he didn’t appear inclined say anything else,
so she tried again. “I haven’t seen you around here before, except
for the other day in town. Are you visiting? A friend of his,
maybe?”

“I’m passing through. Doing a bit
of work here and there.” He paused in his examination of the board
and gave her a cool look. “What about you? Are you a…friend…of
Rafe’s?”

The way he said ‘friend’ had her
cheeks burning.

“I rent a cabin from him.” It
wasn’t any of café-man’s business if she had a relationship with
Rafe or not. Not that she did, or course. At least, not exactly.
She recalled the kiss and a little frisson of excitement went
through her.

Café-man gave her an assessing
look, and Eve had the uncomfortable feeling that he somehow knew
the direction her thoughts had taken. He reached down for the
hammer.

“You never told me your name.”

He turned away and held a nail in
place. “You never asked.”

She compressed her lips, holding
back an exasperated huff. “Well, I’m asking now.”

“It’s Damien.” He swung the hammer
several times, pounding the nail into the board. “And
you’re….?”

“Eve.”

There was no response to this. He
just grabbed another nail and finished securing the board in
place.

Eve shoved her hands in her
pockets. Talking to him was like trying to squeeze the last bit of
toothpaste out of a tube; a lot of effort and not much to show for
it. His reticence, however, made her feel slightly less guilty
about trying to read his emotions. Forcing herself to relax, she
opened up her mind and reached out towards him seeking some hint of
how he was feeling, still wondering if her earlier failure in town
had been a fluke or not. What would she learn about him? Was he
bored? Curious? Annoyed?

She searched, stretching out her
mind and…discovered nothing. Not even a faint shimmer of feeling
came off the man! First Rafe and now Damien. While she’d never
really wanted inside their heads, it was…puzzling…that they were so
inaccessible. What made them different from the rest of the
population?

Damien continued to work, ignoring
her presence. She wished she dared ask him how he managed to keep
his feelings locked away. Instead, she pursued her other purpose
for seeking him out.

“So, Damien. Do you have any idea
when Rafe might be back?”

He paused and gestured to the side
with his chin before resuming his task.

Eve turned her head, following the
direction Damien had indicated. Rafe was coming around the corner
of the house.

As usual, her stomach gave the
nervous quiver it always did in his presence but she pushed it
away. No more of that; she needed to meet him as an equal, not like
some simpering schoolgirl! Taking a deep breath, she watched him
approach.

His stride was long and easy, no
sign of weariness showing despite the fact that he was obviously
returning from a run. Clad in low-riding grey track pants, a sheen
of sweat glistened on his face and stained the thin t-shirt he was
wearing. Even as she watched, he pulled off the t-shirt, using it
to wipe his face. The action revealed an impressive set of
abdominals and the beginnings of an intriguing ‘v’ that disappeared
below his waist band. Eve felt her eyes widen at the sight. It
would seem her drawings of him were even more accurate than she’d
imagined!

Her feet had her moving towards him
almost before she gave the command, an undefined pull urging her to
close the gap between them. Yet, as soon as she moved, he stopped.
He froze, the shirt balled in his hand, and snapped his head in her
direction. His gaze bored into her; she could feel it across the
distance. Memories of their kiss sprang to mind and a flame of
desire burst into life low in her belly. She licked her lips, felt
her breathing quicken; the need to experience the feel of his mouth
on hers pushed everything else out of her mind. A whimper escaped
her and she was sure his eyes darkened and his nostrils flared.
Then he cast a glance towards Damien and his usually controlled
mask transformed into an angry scowl.